Take Away My Tears
by ArabellaNitehart
Summary: Arthur can't take it anymore and he slowly tries to kill himself slowly with medication. Alfred unknowingly enjoys his days while Arthur is left alone to take his own life. What will Alfred do when his Arthur is found lifeless on the kitchen floor? USUK


Disclaimer/ I do not own Hetalia. It is owned by its creator Himaruya Hidekaz.

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><p>:::Take Away My Tears:::<p>

Day One- The Giving Up Process

_... Damn... What time is it..? It's still dark..._

_Oh wait—my eyes are still closed._

_...Or are they still open?_

_Whatever..._

_What's that light at the corner of my eye..?_

_... I guess they're open..._

_How long has it been..? How long was I asleep..? Did I even fall asleep..?_

_... Doesn't matter..._

_No one cares._

England sits up on his soft king sized bed staring forward into the black that was his room. His eyes shift all around the room to adjust his eyes to the dark. He could still make out the outlines of objects so the room wasn't completely dim.

Either way, he wasn't concerned whether or not he could see anything. It was night, there was no need for your eyes to see; they should have been closed—he should have been sleeping. It wasn't important overall anyway.

The Englishman turns his head to face the digital clock at his nightstand next to him; [2:14 AM]. The clock seemed oddly disturbed, as if someone constantly picked it up to see what time it was.

Well all be damned—that was one of two things England does every night now. Even though the clock was digital and would have been easily seen a couple of meters away, he would feel the urge to grab it and lift it inches from his face like he was practically blind to see what time it was, but he is not blind.

After seeing the time he already expected and didn't want to see, he would set it back down at his nightstand with the front facing his, that way whenever he opens his eyes he would be able to know what time it was by just looking.

Although, that didn't stop him from anxiously snatching it up a little too close to his face; acting as if cannot read the numbers that glowed vibrantly even during the daytime.

The Briton sighed. He didn't feel like picking up the clock this time—what was the point? What will he gain from nearly snapping the cord in half from constant, sudden pulling? What was the point of looking at the same numbers several many times before the last number changes or until a new hour hits?

Exactly—nothing.

There was no point.

It wouldn't benefit him in anyway. It won't help take away his swirling emotions that took over as soon as he was out of sight from the world. It wouldn't stop the constant agony that covered him head to toe, inside and out, all day every fucking day.

_So I'd better stop doing it then, huh? Wouldn't do me one bit of good anyhow. _England trying his best to think confidently.

Fat chance though and he knew it. He always told himself this, always promising himself that he wouldn't do it anymore. The same promise he breaks every night. What did it matter though? What was breaking one measly promise? And to himself for that much.

It didn't matter that he had broken one promise—to not fucking pick up the bloody clock every two seconds throughout the night. That's not even worth thinking about and yet—he is. What was breaking one damn promise that was completely stupid, to one that involves not leaving one's side?

Nothing.

He can break promises to himself if he wants to— he's not hurting anybody. Unlike others that do.

England's stare transfers from the electronic device to the little light that he had seen before. The tiny sliver of light peeked through the bottom of the room door; it was coming from the hallway lights.

The small beam helped brighten up the room just little. He gazed fondly at the slice of light that slid through the gap, for some reason, giving him comfort—a sense of safety. A soft smile found its way to Britain's lips; if only it could last longer, his smile and the comforting light. His eyes follow the dim beam that trailed from the door all the way to his bed where most of the light laid.

His attention diverted to the space next to him—the side of the bed he did not, nor ever, lied on. England ran his hand across the space, feeling the silk of the bed covering and the cool sensation of its vacancy.

His hand snaps back to his side in a sudden manner as if the side was hot to the touch. It took a little bit, but England's mind went back to place and realized what he had been doing. Of course, his actions didn't surprise him considering it happens all the time. What really surprised him was how long these days kept going on.

One more sigh was let out as he closed his eyes for the umpteenth time tonight and lied back down. That's the second thing he does every night, feeling the emptiness of the once occupied side whilst trying to sleep through sleepless nights.

His eyes open to stare at the clock in front of him; [2:16 AM].

Here we go again.

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><p>Sunlight poured through the windows on top of the sheets brightening the room along with the bed with a certain hamburger obsessed country sleeping very soundly underneath the covers. Warmth from the beams soon captured the American's body, waking him from his siesta.<p>

America was lying on his stomach while he was sleeping with his pillow engulfing it entirely even the rebellious Nantucket couldn't go against the awesome softness that was America's pillow. He lifted his face from off the cushion, yawning loudly. He tried to look at the morning and all its beautiful features, but the post sleep drowsiness was lingering causing him to take some extra measures to beat the morning virus of, I-don't-wanna-get-up-fucking-tired-still. The still sluggish nation began getting up to sit cross-legged on his bed followed by using both of his hands to rub away the sleep from his eyes.

After he was somewhat awake enough, America relaxed his body and reluctantly looked at his bedside table to see Texas and his alarm clock, [7:30 AM]. America took his glasses and placed them on his face. "That's better!" Afterwards he jumped out off his bed in a little _too _enthusiastic way. While being only in boxers he stood proudly in front of his sun shining window to take in all the light onto his toned bare chest.

He flashed his winning smile at the sun and took a huge breath heartily as if he was breathing in fresh mountain air, but of course he was in his house, in his room; not outside. "Hahahahaha! Dude! This is fucking sweet! The sun is here to say Hi to the hero!" He let out another roaring laugh. He knew the sun shines for everyone when it comes out, but better off starting out the day positive, right?

As he continued gaping at the window pane, looking at the picture perfect scenery outside, a growl was heard from America, or from America's stomach to be exact. He whined at the feeling of emptiness in his belly. "Dude... I seriously gotta eat..." With that said, America ran out of his room, not caring that he's only in his boxers, sprinting to the kitchen as fast as he can. He quickly made it to the kitchen even though the length between his bedroom and the kitchen was quite a distance considering how he lives in mansion, as did all the other nations.

"Damn! That took too long!" He exclaimed practically tackling the fridge to get to it. The door was forcefully opened having America recklessly rummage through the fridge's contents that hid at the back, only to take out something round like wrapped in aluminum foil from the front, which was literally right in front of his nose, after pushing aside sandwich condiments, sodas, and whatever leftovers he knew he would never finish. "Aha! Found it!" He cried out in full glee and ripped the foil apart to reveal the prize inside.

No one would have ever guessed.

Yes, it was a hamburger. No denying that fact, but it was a hamburger with cheese!

So it was actually a cheeseburger.

It was cold, but that didn't matter to America one bit. He devoured his prized in record time leaving him satisfied for another twenty minutes.

Not bad for the start of the morning. He could get himself ready for the day in the meantime. He started to head back towards his bedroom , but stopped as soon as he turned to see the long hallway he had just ran from and knowing there were more turns and more long hallways to go through just to get to his room.

America groaned bending his body over slightly in a look of defeat. A look he rarely wears and would never wear it when there are other countries around, but this was an exception.

Having a kitchen so insanely far from his room was the only thing he hated about his manor. How can he get a late night snack if the kitchen is so damn far? He would be half asleep and probably running into things on the way there! That would be really annoying. And it would hurt like hell! Other than that he would have to say, him being the high and mighty America and all, his house was the best out of all the other countries' houses..!

Well, except for one.

It greatly exceeds America's house and every nations' house put together sevenfold! Just by having the owner living in it.

From being too deep in thought, America didn't notice that he had walked all the way from the kitchen to his bedroom. He realized that he did so after his bedroom door made an unexpected contact with his face.

"Fuck! Ow!" He blurted rubbing his nose. He looked at his closed door surprisingly, "Oh jeez..! How the hell did I get here..? Well, whatever. I got here pretty quick." America shrugged and opened the door to get in.

He went to his walk closet to pick out some clothes to spend the day in. Picking up several kinds of pants and tops he plopped them on top his bed to mix match everything and decide which ones to wear. America finally settled for regular jeans and a white t-shirt; something simple.

After a solid hour America had done everything he does every morning to start the day; waking up, eating, showering, getting dressed. Not knowing what to do he paced around his house one hand holding his chin the other behind his back, thinking hard on what to do.

"Aha!" His face lights up along with the idea light bulb that could have been seen over his head. "Time to go bug Mattie!" He grabbed his famous jacket off the coat hanger and ran out the door.

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><p><strong>PLEASE READ!<strong>

Okay this story Idea has been sitting in my flashdrive for over a year already and I just HAD to put it out even though I have written out the rest, but If I put it out I'll feel more determined to finish it xD.

So this chapter is just a stepping stone to the real deal and the rest of the summary will unfold later so tell me how it is so far and tell me if you want me to continue it!

**REVIEW NOW OR ELSE (And I'm not playing with chu) I WILL NOT UPDATE THIS OR BRITANNIAN IDIOT, AMERICAN IDIOT. :3**

**SO REVIEW TO KEEP ME ALIIIIIIVE**


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